


Balls!

by cardel



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Because he is the clever research guy, Bobby Singer is awesome, Derek is stupidly proud that Stiles is part of his pack, Ficlet, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Magic, SPN/Teen Wolf Crossover, Smart Stiles, Well so is Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardel/pseuds/cardel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles, however, is not looking at him, he has this look of awe on his face. This cannot bode well. </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Derek asks. </p>
<p>Stiles of course, ignores his question in favor of asking one of his own, “Does being blocked by mountain ash feel, sort of like, walking into a wall of Jell-O, which sort of bounces you off and leaves you with this icky feeling that, you do not want to try to cross that again?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balls!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of all these wonderfully, awesome, Supernatural/Teen Wolf fussion posts on my Dash :D

“Derek?” Derek hears Stiles, his voice sounding more curious than questioning.

Derek turns around and frowns when he sees Stiles still hasn’t moved beyond the entrance of the junk yard. He gives Stiles an exasperated look.

 Stiles, however, is not looking at him, he has this look of awe on his face. This cannot bode well.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks.

Stiles of course, ignores his question in favor of asking one of his own, “Does being blocked by mountain ash feel, sort of like, walking into a wall of Jell-O, which sort of bounces you off and leaves you with this icky feeling that, you do not want to try to cross that again?”

It’s then, that Derek notices, Stiles is looking around him as if looking at this wall he has just described. Which is pretty dead on as to what being blocked by mountain ash feels like. Except for the Jell-O feeling, it’s more of an unpleasant static shock.

“What kind of backwoods-idjit-wanna-be-witch-boy doesn’t know what a magic barrier is?” They hear someone say, followed by the sound of the cocking of a shotgun.

Derek spins around moving in front of Stiles. He lets his eyes flash red and his canines drop down. He crouches low and growls at the man standing in front of them with a shotgun. Derek didn’t even hear him coming; he can’t detect a scent either. This is not good.

“Oh, look, he’s got a guard dog. Cute.” The man mocks.

Before Derek can make any sort of rebuttal, Stiles is speaking.

“Bobby Singer!,” Stiles says, his voice excited. There is nervous energy rolling off of him, ironically enough, this helps Derek relax because nervousness coming from Stiles is okay, fear on the other hand is not, he doesn’t smell any fear from Stiles.

“Holy, God! Bobby Singer, it’s me.”

The man only looks at Stiles as if trying to decide whether to hear him out or just blow his head off. He’ll be dead if he gives any indication of attempting the latter.

“It’s Stiles, Stiles Stilinski. We spoke on the phone about my Alpha, he’s the guy there by the way, who’s currently, with the, grr,” he pauses for a second.

Derek can only imagine Stiles is making some sort of ridiculous face to indicate what he means by the ‘grr’. “In case you hadn’t figured that out yet. Also, why is there a magic barrier keeping _me_ out? I’m not magic, I’m just a spark!” Stiles says, sounding insulted. Derek can hear the beginning of a long argument brewing.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts in an attempt to steer Stiles back on track.

“Right, not the point, the point is, we spoke on the phone about that fae situation I told you we’re having. And you said, after you scoffed and tried to hang up on me for. The. _Sixth_. Time,” Here his voice gets a little high, a little petulant.”’You got a week, if you can find me, kid,’” Stiles’ petulance dissolves into waves of satisfaction, “’I’ll brew you the potion and cast the spell myself.’”

Derek feels Stiles’ shit eating grin rather than sees it. It feels kind of good, not being in the receiving end of it, and knowing he’s not the one who is seconds away from being royally owned.

“Well, I found you, in less than three days. Who knew I wouldn’t need the whole week you allotted me, hope it’s not an inconvenience,” Stiles says, and that’s a definite, gleeful, triumphant note in his voice, the little shit.

“I’ll admit, you did not make this easy at all, man. You gave me slim to nada, nothing, to go on but,” Stiles trails off, nonchalantly. As if, the past sixty hours, miles upon miles of driving nonstop, dead end after dead end, too much caffeine and Adderall, and nowhere near enough sleep, were nothing. As if, he does this every day, with his eyes closed, and hands tied behind his back. In this moment Derek has no trouble believing that, Stiles, could.

“You’re good Bobby Singer but today I, we,” Stiles corrects himself, “were just a little better.” Derek feels a swell of pride for his pack-human expanding pleasantly in his chest. He can’t help the quick smirk he throws over his shoulder at Stiles, who is already grinning back like, well, a wolf, all teeth and no mercy.

“Balls,” says the shotgun wielding man. Derek turns back, grins, bearing teeth, canines and all, at the man who just got royally owned.

**Author's Note:**

> I think, I'll probably expand on this sometime in the near future. They're just so much fun to write! I want to write about them meeting Sam and Dean!


End file.
